


Bounty

by Teadum



Category: Extraction (2020)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24289849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teadum/pseuds/Teadum
Summary: You are the youngest child and only daughter of a powerful arms dealer. When a deals goes bad between your family and an international crime syndicate your father sends you away for your protection. You think you're safe up in the mountains with an army of bodyguards, but when the syndicate puts a $10 million bounty on your head nothing can keep you from Tyler Rake.
Relationships: Tyler Rake/Original Character(s), Tyler Rake/Original Female Character(s), Tyler Rake/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Bounty

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple Tyler Rake fic ideas and since the rescue fics seem to be more popular atm(and that was my other fic idea) I figured I’d shelf that one(for now…) and do literally the exact opposite and write the fic where he kidnaps you! Because sometimes he “does other things!” :) Not expecting this to be crazy long but then again idk man who knows (also this chapter does kind of have an abrupt ending sorry about that if I had kept it going it would have been like twice as long) There’s a bit more exposition in this one because I can’t not set up a needlessly complicated storyline in all my fics, but don’t y’all worry we’ll be getting to the good stuff in the next part because I love love and fluff is where I LIVE. it is where i THRIVE. it is what i EXIST FOR.
> 
> I hope you like it(let me know please I need constant validation I am a small dog in a human body). It’s been like a year since I’ve written anything and I’m glad I found something to inspire some creative juices again.

You pulled the blanket tight over your shoulders as you stood on the balcony looking out over the back garden. It had been your favorite place to play when you were a child; laughing as your mother chased you under the summer sun, the beams of light slipping through the vine-covered trellises, playing hide and seek with your brothers behind the tall, imposing hedges, reading in the secret corner by the small brook that weaved through the grounds. Now the moonlight shown over the snow as it poured down and blanketed the garden, and you could barely recognize that place from your memories. You had never been here in the winter, and it wasn’t just the weather that was giving you chills.

Another gust of wind blew down from the mountains. You shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around you as you retreated back inside. You sighed as the warmth enveloped you, quickly losing the feeling of comfort as you spotted your company at the far side of the room. The men glanced up from their football game as you entered, only to quickly return their attention to the TV. You were used to bodyguards—they’d been around your whole life—but it felt like these men were their to watch you just as much as they were their to protect you, and it was an unpleasant feeling.

Your family had made a name for themselves in the weapons business. Your grandfather had been an international arms dealer known for being particularly ruthless and cruel. Your father however, was a businessman, and had brought the family business from an international crime syndicate to a legitimate, multi-million dollar business—or so he liked to claim. While everything might look clean on paper, you knew he and your brothers were still getting their hands dirty, selling their now government-sanctioned weapons to the highest bidder. The only difference between what your father was doing and what your grandfather had done was when killing someone didn’t work, your father didn’t mind lining a few pockets instead.

“There’s a bigger TV downstairs you know.” You said sitting down on another couch, “I’m perfectly safe upstairs on my own.” 

“I’m sorry Miss y/n, but we have our orders.” The man closes to you—Jacques, you think his name was—replies. The orders to which he was referring came from your father; you were to have at least five fully-armed bodyguards with you at all times. They had to stay within view except when at home, in which case they had to stay on the same floor. The house itself was also completely crawling with security personnel in addition to your personal bodyguards.

You had always had bodyguards—that wasn’t new—but being locked up in your summer home in the mountains in the middle of winter surrounded by an army of security was a new experience for you. You knew you were partially to blame—though “blame” may not be the right word to use—out of three children you were the only girl and the youngest, so your father had always been overprotective of you, and it only got worse after your mother died a few years ago. He doted on you, and you had always acted the part of dutiful daughter. It would only make sense that he would react poorly to you wanting a little bit more freedom, particularly when you had tried to take that bit of freedom without permission.

Never in you life had you snuck away from your guards, but the one night you did just happened to be the night a deal had gone wrong between your eldest brother and a very powerful international crime syndicate. Suddenly your family was at war, and no one had known where you were. When you got home you could swear your father was going to kill you himself before anyone else could do if for him. After that it was decided as both punishment and precaution, you would be sent away to the summer house in the mountains while your father and brothers tried to sort the whole mess out.

You had only been away a few days now and already you wished you were home. The mountain house was nice of course; it had everything you could want, except you were completely alone. Naturally the guards were there, but they weren’t exactly good company. Your brothers were a pain, and your dad was overbearing and overprotective, but you missed them. Even though your family was in a bad business, and you knew they did terrible things, they had always loved you, and you couldn’t help but worry about them with everything that was going on.

You sighed as you sat on the couch, looking through your phone absently while lost in thoughts of your family. The room suddenly went dark and you looked up from your screen, now the only light in the room.

“What happened?” You asked, looking at your guards as they all stood up at once, clearly listening intently to whatever was being said over their earpieces.

“Not sure, they think the wind knocked down a pole somewhere but they’re going to check it out.” Jacques replied, walking towards you flanked by the other men. “Best just stay close for now, miss.” You stayed seated on the couch as you were surrounded by the men. Up until this moment all the security had felt like total overkill, but sitting there in the dark—as absurd as the idea of something really being wrong seemed—you couldn’t help but be grateful your father had gone to such lengths to protect you. Still, why would they come for you when they had your brothers and their men to deal with? You knew these types liked to grab family members, but your brothers must be giving them a hard enough time, why waste the man power coming after you? How would anyone even know where to find you?

Several minutes passed in silence and you began to relax. Of course everything was fine; you were safe here. No one knew where you were, and even if they did there’s an army of men between them and you. Nothing could get to you here. 

Gun shots rang out from downstairs and your breath caught in your throat. “Get down.” Jacques whisper forcefully, his gun out in an instant as he he stood in front of you. You got down on the ground, he gestured for you to move behind the couch and you quickly obeyed, crawling around the back as the other men moved to strategic spots throughout the dark room. You could hear sounds coming from downstairs: men yelling, fighting, more gunshots, then silence.

Your heart was hammering in your ears, your breath coming fast as you peaked out from behind your hiding spot. The next few seconds felt like an eternity, waiting for something—anything—to happen. You all had your eyes fixed at the open stairway; the only way into the room. The men all had their guns out, pointed at the stairs; as soon as someone stepped out, they would be dead. The silence stretched on, and you rocked yourself as you tried to stay calm. You knew this could be a trap; send one of them down to check on the situation downstairs, and you potentially lost a man, but then again you couldn’t stay up here forever, and there was no other way down.

In the silence you heard an awful gurgling sound. You looked and saw one of you guards getting his throat slit by a large shadow. You screamed and looked away. The other guards react instantly, turning their guns on the man. It’s was too late, the intruder had already grabbed the gun from the dead guards hand. He unloaded the barrel into the other guards, Jacques took a hit but got a shot back, hitting the man in the shoulder. The man grunted, lunging at Jacques and forcing him to the ground. The to men rolled around, wresting for control of the man’s knife. “R-run!” Jacques managed to shout though gritted teeth as the man pushed the knife towards his throat.

Your legs felt weak, and you felt light-headed, but when you heard Jacques voice you’re body moved instinctively. You staggered up and ran to the stairs. If you could get to the garage, you could get a car, get out of here. You nearly lost all resolve when you saw the mess of bodies littering the first floor. All of them were your guards. You hadn’t seen any other intruders; had that one man done all this? You kept running, not even making it half way before an unfamiliar voice called out behind you.

“That’s far enough.” He said. You froze. “Listen, I don’t wanna hurt you, but I will if I have to, alright? Just don’t move.” You heard him slowly start making his way towards you, and you felt yourself stop breathing. “It’s just you and me now, okay? You understand that? I could have already killed you if I wanted to, but I haven’t. So just calm down.” He was right next to you now, you slowly craned your neck up to look up at him as he towered in front of you. “As long as you cooperate, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” It was hard to trust someone covered in blood, but you had no other choice. Against your will, tears formed in your eyes, and you nodded weakly. You knew what this meant. Even if he wasn’t going to hurt you, the people he worked for were certainly planning to. You would be a message to your father, to your family, to anyone else who ever got on the wrong side of the syndicate. This was a death sentence, even if he wasn’t the one pulling the trigger.

You could see the mans eyes move in the dark, looking you over. He was silent for a moment, before abruptly replying. “Good.” He then quickly spoke into his radio. “In possession.” He looked back a you and scowled. “You have shoes? A coat?” You nodded, surprised that a kidnapper should care about the comfort of their victim. 

“U-upstairs.” You manage to say. He gestured for you to walk, and you made your way upstairs to grab your things. You could barely stand seeing all the bodies again. It was worse upstairs; you had gotten used to your personal guards. You weren’t friends really, but you still knew them. You couldn’t even look at Jacques’ body as you quickly went to grab some boots and your coat. You did notice the balcony door was open; that must have been how he got upstairs, you realized. Three floors up—he climbed. As you sat on the stairs to put your boots on you eyed him in the dark; was he even human?

“Alright, let’s get a move on.” He urged, pulling you to your feet as soon as you’d finished putting your boots on. He helped you put on your coat and ushered you down the stairs and through the house, clearly on alert despite having killed everyone else in the building.

You made it to the front door but before heading out he pushed you back against the wall. “Stay here.” He ordered before heading toward the front door. You wondered briefly if maybe you should try to run, but given how he’d handled himself thus far you didn’t think you had much of a chance to escape. It would probably only make things worse for you in the long run.

The man had his gun at the ready as he approached the entryway, cautiously opening the door as he looked out for any sign of trouble. Unfortunately for him he found some. Shots rang out and you instinctively ran around the corner for cover from whatever was about to happen.

The man cursed as he barely managed to dodge the shot, grabbing the gun and wresting with the assailant. You heard a muffled argument through the doorway, but couldn’t make out what was said. There was a struggle, more gunshots, and finally silence. You heard footsteps approaching you and and you shook with fear and anticipation wondering who had survived the altercation. At this point would it matter for you either way?

A pair of combat boots entered your line of site and you looked up from your seat on the floor. The stranger had survived, though he seemed to have a large gash on his forehead above his left eye which was now bleeding heavily.

“Come on then.” He said, offering you his hand. You took a moment, then gingerly placed your hand in his. His hand was calloused and rough, and completely enveloped yours as he hoisted you up onto your feet and headed towards the entryway without a word. When you made it out of the house into the cold, snowy night, you were surprised to see the body of the woman he had killed. It definitely wasn’t one of the bodyguards your father hired.

“Who was she?” You asked him as he quickly leads you away from the house. He glanced back.

“She was a mercenary; probably not the only one kicking around either now that I’ve done all the heavy lifting, bloody vultures.”

“M-mercenary?” You stutter out, the cold mixing with your fear. Despite the coat you were still freezing in the snow and biting wind. He kept leading you forward, still on guard as he spoke.

“You know you’re asking a lot of questions given your circumstances.” He snapped, seemingly annoyed at your pestering. You didn’t respond, quietly looking down as you followed along behind him. He glanced back at you and sighed. “They’re here for your bounty.”

“Bounty? What bounty?” You looked back up at him, surprised at his answer.

“The $10 million bounty that’s been placed on your head.” You stopped. $10 million? How many people were going to come after you with that kind of money dangling over your head? 

“Hey.” You blinked. You hadn’t realized he had come back to stand in front of you. He was looking right at you; in the moonlight you could get a better look at his face, though it was still half-covered in blood. His eyes were a pale wash of blue in the moonlight, ringed in red like he had never seen enough sleep in his life. “Listen, we don’t have time for you to start freaking out about this right now. The deal is you have to be alive to get the money, so no one’s going to being kill you tonight, okay? ” There are worse things, you thought. 

There’s a reason they wanted you alive, and you’d almost rather this man killed you now than be given alive to the fate those people had in store for you. Still, this was good. If this man was a mercenary after your bounty, that meant he had no loyalty to his employer; he only cared about the money. Maybe you could use that to save yourself.

Maybe.

You followed him though the snow until you reached a snowmobile. He made sure the coast was clear before reaching into a backpack slung around the side. He pulled out a cellphone and typed something on the screen before holding it up. 

“Say your name.” You obeyed. “Birthday.” You told him your birthday. He turned the phone around. “Proceeding to Alpha-team’s location.” He send the video and put the phone back in his bag. “Get on.” He ordered as he gestured to the back seat of the snowmobile. You moved to to get on, then stopped.

“What’s your name?” You asked suddenly. He stopped. 

“What?” He asked, clearly confused.

“It’s just that, well, I mean—I just told you my name, so now you should tell me yours.” You finally manage to say. You were admittedly nervous asking him what his name was; despite him being more magnanimous than the average murderous mercenary kidnapper you didn’t want to press your luck and make him angry. But knowing his name would likely be useful if you were going to save yourself from this situation; at the very least he may trust you that much more.

He stared at you for a moment, and you worried that maybe you’d made a wrong move, but finally he answer.

“Tyler. Tyler Rake.”


End file.
